Accepting his glass from the butler, Gerald glanced at Mrs Sindlesham and saw a dimple peep out. Mr. Man's fate is in his own hands. ‘All this gadding about. See? You marry me. I’m sorry. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow.
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